


Spaces In Between

by franticatlantic



Category: Bandom, Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Alternate Universe - Tattoos, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-24
Updated: 2016-11-24
Packaged: 2018-09-01 21:58:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8639764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/franticatlantic/pseuds/franticatlantic
Summary: Tyler's tattoo has always matched Josh's.





	

**Author's Note:**

> based on [this](http://vintagetyler.tumblr.com/post/153505396113/writing-prompt-s-people-are-born-with-tattoos) prompt.

When Tyler is eight years old his tattoo changes for the first time. It’s been a bird since he was born, solid and black on the left part of his chest, soaring against some unseen gust of wind.

Josh Dun moves in across the street and his tattoo is a lightbulb. Tyler doesn’t ask why. Not only because it’s impolite to ask what someone else’s tattoo means, but also because it changes the minute Tyler introduces himself.

Josh is playing ball with his brother and sisters and it bounds into Tyler’s yard. Tyler picks it up and Josh crosses the street flipping dark hair out of his eyes. His smile is friendly, but wary. He holds onto the top of the Josephs’ fence with pale hands. “Hi. I’m Josh. I’m eight years old.”

“Me too. I’m Tyler.” He’s going to hand Josh his ball back when the lightbulb on his arm changes. “Hey. Your tattoo.”

Josh glances down, pulling his skin between his fingers. “That’s weird. It’s been like that since I was born.”

It’s a violin now.

“Mine, too,” Tyler says, and raises his shirt to show the other boy. Only Tyler’s tattoo has changed as well, from a bird to a ballerina. “Oh. Mine’s changed, too.”

“What was it before?”

“A bird.” Tyler lets his shirt fall.

“Sweet.”

Tyler shrugs, glances behind Josh to where his siblings stand cautiously watching the interaction. The two girls both have apples on their necks. He can’t see the boy’s. “Can I play with you?”

“Sure!” Josh grabs the ball from Tyler and motions for him to follow across the street.

They decide that Josh’s tattoo changed because his mom just started him on music lessons and Tyler’s changed because his dad enrolled him on the basketball team.

“What does dancing have to do with basketball?” One of Josh’s sisters asks.

“They’re both sports,” Josh clarifies, and Tyler smiles.

They’re inseparable for a long time after that.

-

When Tyler turns thirteen his tattoo is a flower. He can’t tell what kind, only that it has six petals and he knows it’d be very pretty if there were any color to it.

Josh’s is a lone droplet of water, cascading down his arm.

Tyler’s mom takes them to the county fair, sandwiched in the back with the rest of Tyler’s siblings.

“Mom,” Zack whines, and flashes the star on the underside of his wrist, “Jay keeps poking me.”

“Boys.” Their mother’s eyes flash in the rearview. “Why can’t you behave like Tyler and Josh?”

Zack grumbles something about Tyler being the favorite child and then falls silent.

Where he’s sandwiched between Josh and Madison, Tyler grins. He’s practically sitting in Josh’s lap with Josh’s arm around him because that’s the only way for all four of them to fit. He finds that he likes it, just as much as he likes the nights he spends at Josh’s house, huddled under the covers reading scary stories or up on Josh’s roof watching the night sky. When it’s just him and Josh and no one else.

At the fair Tyler’s mom tells him that he and Josh, being the oldest, can go off on their own if they promise to return to the car by 3.

With Zack once again complaining that Tyler gets preferential treatment, Tyler takes Josh’s hand and starts to lead him through the fair. The food stalls look appealing so they each get a funnel cake, which they eat while they walk along, staring up at the rides. Tyler isn’t much one for roller coasters - or heights in general - and Josh says he doesn’t much feel like riding without Tyler anyway so they walk on.

They’re both feeling quite ill from their one funnel cake apiece, leaning tipsily on each other when they find the fortune teller’s hut. Tyler almost passes it, but Josh pulls him back. It’s made to look like a tent, what looks to be a large purple blanket draped over top, with each side tied back by golden ropes at the entrance. To the right, there’s a bright neon sign that Tyler is sure looks much more appealing to nighttime fair-goers. The sign reads ‘FORTUNE TELLER 5¢’ and in the middle has a bright red eye that blinks every few seconds.

“You want to?” But Josh is already walking forward, knocking one of the tied drapes aside.

Tyler hastens to follow, and latches onto Josh’s elbow when they’re inside, where it’s dim and the walls are lined with magical instruments - crystal balls, tarot cards, a shiny emerald amulet - and a wizened old woman with thick dark skin and graying hair awaits them at the table in the very middle of the tent.

She smiles kindly. “Come to have your fortunes told?”

Josh nods.

“Individually? Or together?”

Josh glances at Tyler and Tyler shrugs. He turns back to the wizened old woman. “Together.”

A different smile stretches across her face this time, large and knowing, showing uneven, cracked teeth. “5 cents, then. In the pot.”

Tyler sticks a hand into his jeans, rooting around for the money his mother gave him. But Josh stills him with a hand on his arm. “I’ve got it.” He plunks a nickel into the glass pot, which only has two other nickels inside. That makes Tyler feel bad.

“Do you not get many customers?” He asks, and he and Josh take a seat at the table, which is covered by a star-studded cloth.

The old woman cackles. “Not many people believe in the supernatural these days, boy. I suppose they don’t believe I can really tell their fortunes, either.”

Truth be told, Tyler doesn’t know if he believes it himself. But Josh is leaning forward over the velveteen table, his attention rapt on the woman’s old gnarled fingers, which are bedecked in rings of every size and color imaginable.

“So,” Josh says, “where do we start?”

The old woman blinks her grey eyes. “You two are close.” It’s not a question.

“He’s my best friend,” Tyler tells her.

A nod from Josh, and a slower nod from the woman.

“What are your tattoos?”

Tyler has grown from the little boy he once was, discussing his and Josh’s tattoos so crudely right there on the front street. He knows better know, knows that a question like that just isn’t well-mannered. “That’s-“ He begins, but Josh is leaning farther forward, offering his arm for the woman to inspect.

“Ah,” she sighs and it sounds like a death croak, like she might keel over at any minute. She turns to Tyler and her eyes are piercing despite their milkiness. “And yours?”

Hesitantly, Tyler raises his shirt, revealing the solid black flower for only a moment, before dropping it once more.

The old woman chortles madly, clapping her hands together with a clink of her rings. “So the water nourishes the flower.”

Josh and Tyler look at each other. Then back at the old woman. Josh says, “We’re friends…”

“Of course. For now.”

Tyler doesn’t like this. He wants to leave, wants to ride a roller coaster or stuff himself full of another funnel cake, anything but being here in this stuffy tent that smells like lavender. He tugs on Josh’s hand.

“Oh.” Josh grabs Tyler’s hand under the table and gives it a squeeze. “I think we should be going-“

“You’ll find each other again,” the woman says as they’re standing, and she’s not smiling. Her multi-colored fingers are clasped in front of her. “Eventually, the music will accompany the dancer again.”

“Shut up!” Tyler yells suddenly, and he knocks the glass jar of three nickels to the ground, where it shatters. The woman looks nonplussed.

Josh shields Tyler back, ushering him to the doorway as he addresses the old woman, “We’re gonna be friends forever. I’ll never have to find him again because he’s my best friend and he always will be.”

The woman simply laughs as they leave.

They walk quickly back to the car, neither of them much in the mood for any other attractions.

Tyler kicks a rock with the toe of his shoe. “What do you think she meant, ‘for now’?” Josh doesn’t answer. “Do you think she meant we won’t always be friends?”

Josh grabs Tyler’s hand fiercely. “That’s stupid. Of course we will."

“Right,” Tyler says, and nods. “Of course.”

Josh’s fingers are still crushing his when they get to the car.

-

When he’s eighteen his tattoo is a ship, an ancient naval ship with giant black sails and a black mast. Josh’s is an anchor.

When he’s eighteen Josh kisses him. They’ve spent the night together again and as Tyler wakes to the daze of morning Josh presses their lips together and kisses him. Soft, hesitant, almost awkward.

“What’d you do that for?” Tyler asks, voice groggy.

Josh shrugs. “Been wanting to for a long time.”

Tyler isn’t upset - this seems like the natural progression of things in the timeline of Tyler Joseph and Josh Dun. Which is why he’s surprised, when he’s going to pull Josh in for another kiss, that Josh pulls away and pushes Tyler back at the same time.

“Wha-“

“But I probably shouldn’t have.”

Worry lines crease Tyler’s forehead and he brushes a hand down Josh’s arm, cupping lightly. “Why not?”

Josh looks away, toward the window, where the heat of summer shoves itself up against the glass. “Because I’m leaving. I got that full band scholarship down in Florida and if I don’t go my parents will hate me.”

Tyler feels like all the air has been knocked out of him. “How…how long have you known?”

“A while. I was trying to think of a good way to tell you, but I couldn’t.”

“And when do you leave?”

“A week.”

The floor is crumbling beneath him, Josh’s bed giving way to a free fall into space. “You can’t just do that,” he says, shoving Josh aside as he climbs out of the bed. He roots around for his shoes.

“Tyler?”

“You can’t just kiss me and then tell me you’re leaving in a week. That’s…that’s…that’s pretty _fucked up_.” He’s crying.

“Tyler, I never meant-“

“Shove it. You shouldn’t have kissed me at all.”

He leaves and he doesn’t kiss, or see, as a matter of fact, Josh again for a very long time.

-

Over the next five years Tyler’s tattoo changes rapidly. First a cloud, then a flame, then a feather.

When he meets Jenna it’s a lightning bolt and everyone who sees it makes fun of him for being Harry Potter.

Tyler’s response is always, “At least it’s not on my forehead.”

He finds himself wondering if, somewhere in Florida, Josh’s tattoo is the sky.

But then he meets Jenna.

And her tattoo doesn’t match Tyler’s at all. Her tattoo is a sleek black wolf, its head thrown back in a long howl, and it’s on her ankle.

But when she sees Tyler’s tattoo, the first time they’re ripping each others’ clothes off, she slows and runs slender fingers over it. “Wow,” is what she says, and her eyes are wide. “That’s one of the most beautiful ones I’ve ever seen.”

So Tyler kisses her and forgets the rest for almost a year or more.

Because Jenna is nice and her job at the interior design office plays well with Tyler’s burgeoning writing career. Her bright blonde hair and blue eyes play well with Tyler’s dark hair and brown eyes. Everyone tells them they’re the perfect couple.

And he believes it, continues on letting Jenna believe it, too.

Until he can’t forget the rest. Until one night she’s jerking him off, both of them too drunk to rightly have sex, and Tyler sighs a name that isn’t Jenna’s.

He sighs the name of the boy who kissed him when they were eighteen and then left, the boy who was supposed to be his best friend forever, the boy he played ball with when they were eight years old and they talked about their tattoos like nothing else mattered.

Maybe nothing else ever did.

-

Tyler writes a book about two boys with matching tattoos who don’t realize it until it’s too late. It’s a best seller and Tyler’s able to move out of the apartment he once shared with Jenna, to a large house in the county. And he sees his book in the front window of every Barnes & Noble he passes. It doesn’t have a happy ending.

He’s twenty-seven and eating dinner alone in the dining room when the doorbell rings. His parents keep advising him to get a cat or something, just to keep him company. But Tyler doesn’t need company. What he needs is some peace and quiet and to live out the rest of his days on the royalty money from the book. Alone.

His tattoo is a dagger.

It’s Josh at the door, bundled in a gigantic coat as snow falls around him. He looks older, but much the same as he did 10 years ago. His hair is pink.

“How did you know where I live?” Are Tyler’s first words to him in 10 years.

“Your parents.”

“Yeah, they always loved you.”

Josh shivers. His breath is misting in the frigid air. “Can I come in?”

Tyler steps aside and lets Josh enter, if only so he can close the door and cease being turned into an icicle by the inclement weather outside.

He offers Josh a cup of tea and they stand at the kitchen island talking about nothing from before.

Until Josh says, “Read your book,” staring not at Tyler, but at the mug of tea cupped in his hands.

“How’d you like it?” That’s the question Tyler always asks when people tell him they read the book - it’s even the one he asked his parents after they finished. He needs validation.

“It was amazing - you have a gift.” Josh finally raises his eyes to meet Tyler’s.

Tyler nods. “Thank you, I-“

“Inspired by true events, eh?”

What Tyler normally says when people start to talk about that is that he knew a guy a long time ago, a distant friend, and the story is based off of him. He never elaborates any further, though he doubts Josh would need him to.

Tyler merely hums and sips at his tea.

“Look, I-“

“Don’t.”

They’re looking at each other over the island, over their steaming mugs of tea, and Josh’s full lips are parted, his gigantic coat still on. Tyler doesn’t want to hear it, doesn’t want Josh back in his life after he only just got used to not having him in it. Especially because he knows Josh will just leave again, go back to his life in sunny old Florida and leave Tyler alone once more.

“Let me see your tattoo,” Josh mutters.

Tyler shakes his head. “Josh, I can’t-“

“Please. Just let me see it.”

He sets his mug down with a clink and tugs the left side of his shirt up, shows the dagger there.

Josh exhales shakily. “That’s what I thought.” He starts to shrug himself out of his jacket.

“What’re you-“ Tyler glances down and what he sees isn’t a dagger, but a ballerina. Legs crossed, arms up, head tilted to the side. “What the - that wasn’t like that before.”

“Mine either,” Josh says, and he’s offering his tattoo to Tyler. It’s a violin again.

“What-“

“It changed a couple days ago. I knew I had to come see you.”

“Why didn’t you before?”

“Same reason as why you’re looking at me now. Because I didn’t know if you’d want to see me, if I’d be welcome…if you hated me.”

Tyler can’t help how he’s looking at Josh, as Josh walks steadily around the island with his eyes on him. Because he can still remember how it hurt when Josh left, how they were only allowed one kiss before the next 10 years ripped them apart and tossed Tyler out to sea with no life raft to grab onto.

He holds a hand out and whimpers, backs up as far as he can against the counter. “Please, I…” Josh doesn’t interrupt him this time, just lets him gather his thoughts. “You can’t leave again. If you come any closer than where you are now, you can _never_ leave again. If you do I’ll leave, too. And you’ll never be able to find me because I won’t want you to.”

“You’d rather be alone?”

“Than feel like I’m being stabbed in the heart again? Yes, I’d rather be alone.”

“Well, you won’t have to worry.” Josh takes another step forward and seals his fate. “Because I won’t be leaving again.”

“You have to promise.”

Tyler’s hand, originally held out to stop Josh’s advance, now curls around his shoulder. Josh grins and pulls Tyler tight against him with both of his arms around Tyler’s waist. “I promise.”

“What about Florida?” Tyler asks, as Josh’s lips near his.

“We can talk about that later. Just trust me that I’ve got it all worked out.”

Tyler doesn’t fully trust Josh, but he remembers when he did, when Josh protected him from that nasty fortune teller, when he protected him from bullies at school, when Josh actually fought Zack because he was beating on Tyler worse than a brother should. Back then Tyler would have trusted Josh with his life.

He still does, he realizes, just not with his heart.

So he kisses Josh again, feels the softness of his lips, the tightening of Josh’s arms around him, the shift in the air as Tyler opens his mouth. He melts at the first brush of Josh’s tongue against his, claws at Josh’s arms trying to get more. There’s a moment where they’re pressed together for so long and so hard Tyler can’t breathe.

And they part panting, forehead to forehead. Tyler swallows and tastes Josh everywhere and it’s so much better than anything else he’s ever tasted.

“I missed you,” he whispers, and his hands come to cup Josh’s jaw.

“I missed you more,” is Josh’s reply, and Tyler rolls his eyes.

That’s not possible, but he’ll let Josh have it. For now.

He leads Josh upstairs not too long after and for a while they just lay together like they used to in Josh’s childhood bedroom. Only now they look at each other instead of a scary story or Josh’s newest comic book.

Josh pulls Tyler against him and that first night they just sleep. Together, like a dancer and his beautiful accompaniment.

**Author's Note:**

> i have [tumblr](http://vintagetyler.tumblr.com/).


End file.
